


Queen Victoria's England

by HaloMimi



Category: Black Butler Book of Circus, Black Butler Book of the Atlantic, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 14:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17530532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaloMimi/pseuds/HaloMimi
Summary: Behind closed doors all decorum and propriety are dropped.





	1. Princess in the Fifth Floor (Edward Midford)

    There's no doubt that no one else would've been able to accomplish such a feat. Sneaking into the fifth floor of a noble mansion, in all honesty it's something right out of an escapade from a Gothic novel. Although, it's not as though there were numerous obstacles to be overcome. Such as a moat guarded by vicious beasts or poisonous thorns guarding her window, there weren't even proper guard dogs per say.   
    Not to say that what Edward just accomplished isn't incredible. Rather because it's Edward that just climbed in to her room mid night, that this is so incredible for her. He stands in front of her still trying to catch his breath as he rakes a hand through his hair. 

  
  
        "Edward, what's wrong?" At first glance, nothing seems amiss. First appearances can be deceiving however, for while he doesn't look wounded or hurt physically at least there's probably something awfully wrong for him to break all rules of propriety. 

  
  
    Standing still in front of her he doesn't say a word. Not even when she lifts up a hand to his forehead, to check for a fever. All Edward does is clutch her hand tightly before lifting it up and pressing a kiss to it. Not letting go of her hand Edward steps closer, bringing an arm around her waist. 

  
  
        "Nothing. Nothing's wrong love." His voice is hoarse. Judging from the exercise he'd just had in covering the ground and climbing her window perhaps she shouldn't think too much of it. Though there's something else hidden in it and she knows it. He's running his thumb over her knuckle, it's something he does when nervous. "I only wanted to see you." Lifting her hand to his lips once again he presses another kiss to it. 

 

        "I see." Apparently she would have to pry a little if she wanted to know why he'd sneaked into her room. Looking him eye to eye she takes a breath but before she can start with her first question a kiss is pressed to the corner of her lips. Then another one full on her mouth.   
    Not that this is their first sweet kiss, or even their first desperate passionate kiss. But Edward's never been one to be rough or demanding. In her mind another little flag is raised.... though it's embarrassing how quickly he disarms her as he continues to kiss her. 

  
  
    In no time she's leaning into him. Pressing her breasts against his chest as her arm free wraps around him, feeling the firm muscles of his back. Meanwhile he wraps his own free hand around her lower waist. To think this was the same boy who used to blush beet red when he had to kiss her hand. He's come so far.   
    By then they know how to kiss, how to pull at lips and caress with their tongues. Most importantly, their teeth don't painfully clack together anymore. As she smiles he pulls away. Seeing his pained expression the smile falls from her lips. 

  
  
        "Please love, no questions. I simply can't lie to you. I won't lie to you." Nor could he tell her the truth is what she reads between his words. His breath is even more ragged. Holding him she can also feel him trembling. (F/n), doesn't want to be pushy. One of those demanding women that harassed their husbands to no end. Though she can't find it in herself to just let this go without inquiry. Not if there's something she can do.   
    Before she strengthens her resolve to pursue the matter Edward presses tentative kisses to her cheeks, on her forehead. Then he finally pulls her into a gentle embrace. 

  
  
        "Edward, just tell me if there's anything that needs to be done. Anything I can do for you." Mentally she's bracing herself to pull out the deadliest weapon from the armory. To prepare the strongest potions, summon the fiercest warrior from the mists of time, anything he'd ask of her she'd do it. And judging from his relationship with the infamous 'watchdog' she's no fool to think this is something mundane. 

  
  
        "...yes. I did come here with a reason." He pulls away from her but not too far. In the dim light they're trying their best to see as much of the other as needed. Clutching her hand again he takes a deep breath, while she remains quiet. "Allow me to first say, I will definitely take you to the altar one day (F/n). There's never been any doubt on that account, so you do not need to worry about any mishaps or a broken engagement."   
    Despite having gone through training she still flinches just a bit at his words. The face of a sweet maid comes to her mind and though her stomach is churning she pushes all evil thoughts to the side. Edward would never do something like that. 

  
  
        "Which leads me to say, I will never abandon you. No matter the consequences of... even if the wedding must be pushed forwards.... Though I still study at Weston I am more than capable..." Fragments of ideas bubble from his mouth as his eyes stray from her face. Though it's only a guess she believes she understands so she presses a hand to his chest. 

  
  
        "Edward. Allow me to say, my heart," she pulls her hand to her chest before touching it back to his. "Belongs to you already. My body, will sooner or later belong to you as well. Whether that is before or after a ceremony is irrelevant in terms of my willingness. Perhaps that's not what you were meaning to say however." In response he pulls her close once again. While she also wraps her arms around him for the first time. 

  
  
        "I don't deserve you." She hears the words muttered against her neck. They remain together for some time, him calming his heart while she thinks about the situation at hand. The words uttered had been the truth. Body and soul as they say, she was ready to give herself. But what about him?   
    When they pull away his trembling hand lifts to the bow beneath her chest. One that will allow her to slip out of the nightgown. Reaching for his hand she stops it from pulling the bow out. 

  
  
        "Don't misunderstand.  _I_  am more than ready to give myself to you." Squinting, her night vision needed work on, she tries to gauge his expression. "Right now I simply want to make you really do want this." Lifting her hand up to play with the buttons of his shirt she continues. "Edward, this is something that can't be taken back once done. You are a pure sincere individual with strong morals. Though I know you are a man of your word I do worry that perhaps this isn't exactly what you need or truly want right now." Practically sitting him down on her bed she presses a kiss to his forehead.   
        "I'm going to get a glass of water, and perhaps a little snack." Caressing his face, she grins at the thought of it becoming apple red with her next words. "Think about my words, your desires and needs. Should you still want me," letting her sleeve fall a little off her shoulder she watches his eyebrows raise at the display. "Then I suppose my bed will become our honeymoon suite.~" Not that she can clearly see but his cheeks don't tint with red. Only notable change that happens is his small grin at her words. 

  
  
        "Oh (F/n), you're incorrigible." 


	2. Blinding Stars (Gregory Violet)

    Not that she's an expert in these sorts of things. Though from her understand this wasn't a typical position per say. The man, the head of the household, should be on top. Meanwhile the girl should remain as still as possible as he finishes his business. For this wasn't something for her enjoyment, only a service rendered to her valued husband and a necessity for children to be brought into the world. 

  
  
    Then again, her partner wasn't the most conventional man either. Beneath her, he gasps throwing his head back as his hips buck into her. Some of his hair is sticking to his face, his lip is smeared with either paint or regular lipstick, she's never been able to tell which one he favors, but he's beautiful. As she undulates, still not used to the feeling of him inside her he clutches at her hand. 

  
  
        "Ah! Ah!~" Her toes begin to curl as fiery ants race through her body. From her navel to her toes, then from the tips of her fingers to her navel. She doesn't know which is more accurate to say, but she can definitely say that she is seeing stars behind her closed eyes. 

  
  
        "Hnn.~" Hearing Gregory moan she opens her eyes right as his shaft begins to twitch inside her. Still sensitive she's not thinking about the scandal of this act, or the dangers of it. As her eyes widen all she can bother to put together in her mind is that he looks absolutely breathtaking in this moment. With his parted lips and heaving chest, and also, she'd had absolutely no idea this was possible to experience. 

    The blinding stars clouding her vision, the delight some tingles racing through her body. This whole wonderful experience, now she understands why it must kept secret behind closed doors. For it could be absolutely addicting once tasted. Their hands still tightly entwined they're both breathing hard, trying not to make too much noise. Oh the scandal that would rock society if it was discovered they embraced each other before marriage. "Ah!~" 

    Somehow, that thought made her feel another rush of pleasure. How odd of her. 

  
    As she feels the liquid inside her she notes how his grip on her hand tightens. How his back arches and his knees lift, momentary unsettling her balance. All while he softly moans beneath her. "Oh, my. I think I see the stars."   
    Grinning down at him she uses her other hand to move some hair out of his face.

   
  
        "Really? I only see one." Lazily Gregory blinks at her, his make up mostly intact after everything. Once her understands her meaning he cracks a small smile.

   
  
        "Which novel did you get that one from?" Grinning down at him she shrugs.

   
  
        "I think it was one of Redmond's poems that gave me the idea behind it." Gregory nods, sinking deeper into the bed. While he turns his head away from her she tries to rise, there was plenty to clean up lest the service started getting ideas. Noting that he still hadn't let go of her hand she gently tilts his head towards her again. 

  
  
        "Can we remain like this for a little bit?" When he asks this from her with such a small gentle voice she can't very deny him. No helping it then, pressing a kiss to his cheek she tries to maneuver her body off of his but as close as possible. "No," he gently pulls her down to rest on top of him. "Like this." At last he lets go of her hand to wrap his arms around her.   
    Shuffling quite awkwardly she tries to pull the blanket over them without tumbling off of him. Once they're covered, she stops to rest her head on his chest. Finally indulging one of her private thoughts, to listen to his heartbeat. 

  
  
    A content sigh escapes Gregory. For the first time in a while she feels a semblance of peace. Ever since he'd gotten expelled from Weston nothing had really been the same. She would be stupid not to imagine that something most grievous has occurred, something he can't bring himself to trust her with. Something that his friends were involved with as well. What that something is, well that's what keeps her up at night sometimes. 

  
  
        "Gregory, my love is forever yours." In response she only feels his arms tighten around her. What she doesn't know is that tears finally escape the corners of his eyes. Not too many, only two and one before the other. Because he can't allow himself to burden his beloved with such an awful secret, Gregory doesn't allow himself to cry openly in front of her. 


	3. A Busybody's Tale (Dagger)

    Never did she ever believe she would be grateful for her previous occupation. Not once in the brief time after escaping to the circus. Yet here she was, with a feverish Dagger beneath her ranting about his beautiful 'Sis'. At this point she's not even questioning if they are blood related or not. All she cares about is doing her best to keep peace in this wretched circus.... Joker would have hell to pay once he returned. For that matter Beast as well, for not dealing with this lovesick idiot herself.   
    Perhaps however, the real imbecile to be punished was Dagger himself. Yes, that would do. 

  
  
        "Shh, you're in no state to be seen you fool!" 

  
  
        "But Shish, sis, Ay wuanna see." Rolling her eyes she uses her hair ribbon to bind his hand to the headboard.

   
  
        "Silence. You set foot outside this tent you'll not only make a spectacle of yourself, you might even get arrested for indecency!" At times like this her earliest 'prodigious' upbringing starts to show. 

  
  
        "...Big Shish, wuy don't she luv me." Genuine tears, perhaps influenced by whatever aphrodisiac he'd drunk but all the same genuine, roll down his cheeks with a big hiccuping sob to boot. Sighing, she rubs at her temples. First of all she wants to know who the devil gave Dagger such a strong aphrodisiac. Secondly she'd like to know why in the seven blazes he thought it would be a good idea to drink it. Lastly she can't help but be amazed at the circumstances that allowed him to end up at her tent, while Joker was out on business.   
    Looking down at him she sees all the signs. Glazed eyes, sweaty feverish skin, shallow breaths, but most telling would be the rock hard tent rising in his trousers. Briefly she starts to remember the 'love potions' she'd known during her profession wondering which ones would produce this effect. Seeing his dazed eyes land on her she cocks her head to the side raising an eyebrow. 

  
  
        "So purty.~ You an angel luv?" Closing her eyes she sigh heavily once again. She'd never really known much behind the science of these 'potions' but she did know what to do to ease their effect. Taking out a clean stocking of hers she balls it up and stuffs it in his mouth. Wrapping her belt around to ensure he wouldn't spit it out. 

  
  
        "Not really a fan of this, but I can't have you making too much noise." Shrugging, she starts to take off his trousers. Once she pulls them down to a certain point she sees the artificial limb for the first time. Perhaps she could simply take it off, after all he couldn't go anywhere with only one leg. As she shoots another glance to his glazed expression she decides not to do something like that to him.   
    In the state he was in he'd probably crawl his way to Beast if he had to. Well, best get on with it she tells herself. Easing his underpants off she sees the sizable member actually spring out.... at least she wouldn't have to worry about readying him. He's already slick with an abundant amount of his own essence. 

  
  
    Truthfully this was one of her least favorite services to provide. The taste, some of the men's smell, the feeling of it in her mouth, more often than not it was simply revolting for her to do these things for 'gentlemen'. She wasn't expecting any of that to change in this scenario. Taking it in her hand she blows a little on it before licking it. Dagger shivers but doesn't let out a sound. Briefly she wonders if he's a squealer, a moaner, a grunter, or a screamer.   
    Caressing him softly, she smears his abundant essence all over him. Judging by the soft noises she'd say he's mix between a squealer and a moaner, but she wouldn't know for sure until he climaxed. At last she opens her mouth, reflexively salivating as caresses his tip with her tongue. All her little tricks come back to her as she starts to bob her head up and down. Funny, how some things became muscle memory for some reason. 

  
      
    Holding his hips down she remembers to be careful with her teeth. She also tucks her left thumb in her fist, a trade secret if you will, as she sinks down lower taking him deeper down her throat. Seconds pass like minutes as she feels him twitch, she knows to breathe carefully through her nose but when she can't take it anymore she pulls away. Not paying attention to the saliva and other stuff that drips from her mouth. Wiping her chin she looks at Dagger. 

  
  
    He's still looking around with that glazed look, when their eyes meet a couple of tears fall from his eyes. Cocking her head she frowns, was this one of the ones where he was still conscious of what was happening? 

  
  
        "Sorry, this is probably disgusting to you. But you'll feel better once it's over." To her surprise he nods, heck it even looks as though he's bashfully smiling through the gag. Oh well, taking a deep breath she readies herself to continue. Hearing the muffled squeal as she licks him she still can't decide what to label him as. 

 

  
  
  
~`~`~`~`~`~`Extra  
  
    The first thing she notices is an ache in her mouth reminiscent of the good old days when she'd taken care of the prominent sons of society. Ugh, how disgusting. Then she notices the body curved into her. Legs tangled with her own, arm thrown over her waist. Dagger is sleeping like a child at her side. Shuffling out of his embrace she stretches once she's on the ground.   
    Looking at him at first glance you wouldn't suspect the way he'd spent most of last night writhing beneath her. She does marvel at that however, she knows 'love potions' are potent. They make a man able to go more than one round, but for the love of all that is good and holy six times almost seems blasphemous! Six consecutive times. Not even the boys with more stamina than most could hold out after four with her treatment.   
    Frowning she absently rubs at her jaw with both hands. She'd cleaned him up as best as possible, but her stocking was ruined, and her pillow had drool marks... but still, six bloody times he'd climaxed him her mouth. 

  
  
    Wandering out of her tent she first runs into Jumbo. Snatching the bottle of liquor from him she takes a drink but swishes it around her mouth before spitting it into the ground. 

  
  
        "One of your golden boy's in my tent. I'd appreciate it if he was out by the time I returned." Taking another sip she swishes it about before spitting it out again. Then she hands the bottle back to Jumbo. Her hands wander to her jaw once again. Briefly she wonders if she's out of practice before brushing away the thought. No, Dagger was simply a monster in that sense. 

  
  
    She doesn't make it to the entrance before running into Joker, who seems to be having an amusing conversation with Snake. As she's thinking about approaching him Joker raises a hand and beckons to her. 

  
  
        "(F/n)!~ Snake was just telling me a really funny joke just now." Joker claps a hand onto her shoulder, somehow she already knows where this is is headed. "Is it true you dragged Dagger into your tent yesterday?" Not blushing, or even looking the least bit ashamed she narrows her eyes. 

  
  
        "As a matter of fact I did. Tied him up to my headboard too." At this Snake's eyes widen but Joker stifles a laugh. "See he was hell bent on going to town to look for his 'big sis' but in no condition to do so. Figuring the ring leader wouldn't want his employees in jail for public indecency I took matters into my own hands." Or mouth really but she wasn't about to say that. Joker's eyes crinkle with knowing amusement. "He's fine, I already asked Jumbo to get him out of my tent." 

  
  
        "That so? See Snake, there wasn't any need for you to worry." 

  
  
        "...but the noises, they sounded painful. Says Emily." Closing her eyes she curses whoever gave him that rudy 'love potion' to begin with. 

  
  
        "That reminds me, I need new stockings. Considering they were damaged in service of the circus I expect them to be replaced out of whatever budget you have, and none of that itchy material the ones he ruined were silk." Joker finally cackles as he tries to nod, while Snake, poor child widens his eyes at the mention of stockings. More likely however, the penny finally dropped in his mind. 

  
  
        "Can't breathe! Ya, fine I'll take it out of Dagger's money. I need to go see him." At last she's left standing alone with Snake who's looking intently at the ground. 

  
  
        "My jaw really hurts." If the penny hadn't dropped before it definitely did now. Snake's expression was pure gold as he sputters soundlessly before marching away at her words. She almost feels bad, but then she remembers that she'd wanted to bathe before starting out the day. 


	4. Only Flowers and Jewels (Gregory Violet)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly SFW, suggestive themes and what not but absolutely no action.   
> Didn't expect to get sucked in to Black Butler, also didn't expect to start a series while having about three series mid way through. Life is full of surprises... more of my crappy writing, yay~

    Mr. Violet's artistic genius was known through all the circles of high society. Said genius was the reason why his eccentricities were excused. For every genius is a bit peculiar in the best of ways. She was also certain that secretly many people reveled in the company of such curious individuals. It was, after all, those odd souls who gave life a fun twist.   
    She was well acquainted with the genius of Mr. Violet, or Gregory behind closed doors. Right then she happened to be playing along to one of his curious little games. Standing over a table she carefully tries to cut a painting free. 

  
  
        "Why don't we call Mr. Jamieson?" Rosalia volunteers from her chair. Meaning (F/n) frowns with concentration as she carefully undoes one of the broad brown wrappings.

   
  
        "(F/n) has to do it." Gregory says from his place sketching. "Don't move." He tosses a piece of bread at Greenhill, who is in a pose similar to a Roman soldier. 

  
  
        "Almost done." She mutters to herself as she undoes the second twining and the paper falls away. Now she goes for the wood holding the canvas, meaning to pull it up. 

  
  
        "Allow me." Redmond comes up behind her, lifting up the painting as she circles around to face it. The painting is a flower still life. At first glance at least. 

  
  
    Frowning she takes in the colors, the flowers used, the shape of the flowers, the vase, the hand hovering over... understanding makes her toes tingle and her hands warm. Without changing her expression, she hopes, her eyes find Gregory's. There's a hint of a smile on his lips and a certain crinkle to his eyes that suggests his mischief. Now she understands why he'd insisted she open it immediately and in front of all their friends.   
    The flowers, the folds and petals strongly suggest her. Her intimacy. While the hand, not quite feminine not quite masculine is all Gregory. Though it represents a less innocent part of him she recently became acquainted with. The ruby and pearl bracelet, well there hadn't been too much blood. Hence the small rubies. The pearls... the creamy white pearls.   
    By now a grin is also tugging at her lips. So much symbolism, so many hidden messages. The colors themselves, resembling her, mimicking him. And yet, it was a simply an innocent flower still life, nothing more. She really does doubt flower arrangements will ever be innocent to her, however. 

  
  
        "Ah!" Rosalia comes up beside her. Somehow that in itself seems exposing. As though she's been caught naked in public. Instead of feeling bashful, there's an odd exhilaration. Quite similar to their first rushed time, though she hadn't experienced the carnal pleasure men called the one joy of life; she'd still felt an odd tingle of pleasure from having done something so heavily guarded on her own terms and at her whims. The total opposite of what society called acceptable. 

  
  
        "A still life, how pretty.~" Gregory is still watching her from his place. All semblance of sketching gone, thought poor Mr. Greenhill is still in an exaggerated pose. Rosalia is closely examining the painting. "I'm afraid I don't know much about composition or themes or any artsy language but it's quite pretty.~ Mr. Violet outdid himself." Rosalia's words are genuine and kind. Sweet guileless Rosalia was always one to please others. "I do love the poppies, though they seem to clash in the arrangement." 

  
  
        "Bleuer. Come hold this please." Now she braces herself for Mr. Redmond to come and appraise the painting. Hiding the subliminal message from Edgar Redmond would be harder than from naive Rosalia. For if he understood the reference of passionate love through crimson poppies there would be much more he'd be able to discover.  
    She tries to discreetly watch Redmond as he analyzes the painting. Eventually he reacts, seemingly understanding the message. There's not a horrified expression, Redmond merely blinks, his cheeks turn just a hint of pink, and he reaches to cover Rosalia's eyes. Though his hand settles on her shoulder instead. "What a, what an interesting painting. Miss Briars, I believe it's almost time for your appointment at the club. Shall I escort you there?"   
    (F/n) doesn't miss the disturbed expression on Redmond's face. Rosalia heaven bless her, remains blissfully ignorant. 

  
  
        "Isn't it? The bracelet was quite beautiful. I do believe I want something made of pearls now. I'm not sure about rubies, they're a bit too intense, but pearls sound nice." Rosalie's gathering her small bag. Greenhill the champ is holding his pose steady. While Bleuer sets the painting face up on the table at last. Redmond seems skittish however. Judging from Marina's expression she's also noticed that but isn't saying a word. 

  
  
        "Why don't you have Redmond give you some?" The voice and question would seem perfectly wholesome without context or knowledge of the speaker. Though Gregory's expression is far from wholesome. There's the faintest crinkle to his eyes now, his lips tilt just a little upwards. He's thoroughly enjoying this.   
    Meanwhile Edgar Redmond seems a little more perturbed at the notion of giving Rosalia pearls. (F/n) can also feel a cheshire grin tugging at her lips at the exchange. 

  
  
        "Oh, that would be most too forward of either of us." Bless Rosalia, she has the most overjoyed look on her face as she glances down at the ground. "Perhaps, perhaps a little later on in our courting...." 

  
  
        "My oldest sister says it's a man's duty to give a woman pearls." Mr. Bleuer, just as innocent as Rosalia just had to chime in with his life advice. "Apparently, the rarity of them makes them imperative to prove a man's love." 

  
  
        "Oh, they're not that rare. Not if you know how to coax them from the sea." In a room full of people there is a heat between Gregory and herself, something a little to intimate to be appropriate under normal circumstances. Thankfully, almost none of the people present take notice of it. "But anyways, Mr. Violet, I do believe this will hang in my room. On the wall across from by bed I believe." She was taking a page out of the book of King Albert. Who kept a rather titillating portrait of the queen in his private chambers. 


	5. What a Grand Gala (Edgar Redmond)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what am I doing? Does anyone even read these? I think maybe I upload them for me to read at times, oh well, another one bites the dust~

    Briefly, she wonders how many other girls have lost their 'innocence' like this. She's not self centered enough to believe she's the only or the first this has happened to.   
    In a small library away from the ball she'd begged to host, back pressed against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist aching and sore by now. How many other girls have found themselves in this situation? How many of them enjoyed it? She wants to hope they all did, but her heart aches for the ones that didn't. 

  
  
    It hurts, less now that at first. Though she won't tell Edgar that. Well, Mr. Redmond as she's supposed to call him while in company of others. She sighs, trying to breathe as the doctor told her to. Closing her eyes she tries to focus her attention away from her body. Tightening her arms around his neck because she can't help but feel  _it._  Despite her attempts not to.

   
  
    Their hips, his rocking against her back and forth. Pushing and pushing at her, chafing and quite simply  _hurting_  her while she endures it. Now she understands why girls are told to close their eyes and think of England or roses. Why this isn't supposed to be enjoyable for them, all thanks to Eve if you believe the teachings of the 'holy' men. Breathing raggedly she tries to lean back instead, all this time she's been shifting about trying to at least find some comfort where she can.   
    If Edgar's noticed her discomfort however, he doesn't show it. Looking at his face she notes that his eyes are downcast. His overall expression distant. Not unlike the closed off look he dons when he's annoyed or simply distracted. As of lately that's the expression she's seen the most on him. 

  
  
    Things were different before. Edgar wasn't rambunctious or overly affectionate as say his cousin, true. Even so, there was affection between them once. Before he became a prefect to be more precise.   
    His grip on her waist is fierce. His assault on her most private parts is relentless. In fact he's speeding up, like the rising crescendo of an intense piece. Even now she's still incredibly uncomfortable, hoping for his quick finish so she'll be able put finally put her feet on the ground and clean herself up. 

  
  
    Only, something happens between them. He must have shifted a little a way, or perhaps her body was finally starting to warm at his ministrations. For she feels a hint of pleasure where he's buried inside her. A small hint, but it's there. So she closes her eyes. Trying to follow that tiny hint and see if she can't coax it into actual pleasure. 

  
  
        "Hng,  _ah_." In her attempts to find some of sort of enjoyment out of this she's given him the very pleasure she's sought. At last his movements slow. "Oh, (F/n)." Edgar's buried his head on the crook of her neck, panting as he weakly thrusts against her a couple more times. Inside her, she feels the most curious of things. Liquid, flowing about making horrifying her for a moment with irrational thoughts of having relieved herself.   
    Once she understands what is it that's now sliding down her leg she caresses his hair as he continues to hold her up by the hips. It's really quite a wonder how he's been able to hold her weight during this time.   
        "...what have I done." His voice is but a whisper, eyes now wide open in a panic as he pulls away from her embrace to look at her. 

  
  
        "No, oh no, my dearest (F/n)..." There's a frantic pain evident in the unshed tears accumulating at the corner of his eyes. "What have I done?" He continues to ask as he tries to make himself decent. By now she's leaning against the wall, holding her weight that way because her legs are too shaky to hold her.   
    With a small noise not becoming a lady she slides down rather ungracefully to the floor. "I am ever so sorry. If there is any way to compensate for this atrocity I'v-"

  
  
    Putting a gloved finger to his lips she stops his rambles. They are much too far gone from social propriety to observe any rules of etiquette. Thought she's not quite ashamed of what just happened. Sore, hurting, but mostly confused would be the proper way to explain this. 

  
  
        "Edgar." When two people know each other, one can at least guess the general idea of what the other is thinking. Even if she quite simple at times, she trusts she knows Edgar enough to understand his guilt right now. "I don't even want you to entertain the idea of breaking our engagement. I will not do it, and I trust you'll not put me in such a shameful position." 

  
  
        "...but I hurt you." He seems genuinely confused at her reaction. Yet he greedily clings to the hand at his cheek. "Shouldn't I be punished?" She's never been the brightest candle as they say, but even she can relate this to his most recent disgrace. Ignoring her own pain and discomfort (there's an odd stickiness between her legs), her mind races to find the reason behind all his suffering. 

  
  
        "And what greater punishment would there be for me, but to lose you." Edgar stares at her with a raw intensity that coaxes plenty of emotions and sensations within her. Cupping her other hand on his cheek she holds his face, reveling in the way he sinks into her. "I love you (F/n), I adore you." Leaning forwards she notes a sting in her back that probably came from the buttons of her dress pressing into her. Pressing a chaste loving kiss to his forehead she holds her smile until he opens his eyes. 

  
  
        "And I love you Edgar." This time, hearing his given name seems to evoke a bashfulness in him. Only, seeing his relieved expression turns a certain mischievous switch in her, and so she grins. "That's why you can't even consider the idea that I'll be able to belong to anyone else, ever. Haven't you perhaps entertained the idea that I seduced you? To trap you into a marriage perhaps?" She quirks her lips as she talks.   
        "No Edgar, now you must marry me. I won't stand for anything less." The implication is clear, for every action there are a series of consequences to be endured. Steeling her eyes she continues to look him directly in the eye. "I don't know what happened in Weston. I'm not asking unless you want to talk about it. However, you must know that you don't have to endure this alone Edgar." 

  
  
        "I must have penance. If I can't have salvation I must have punishment." Nearly rolling her eyes, for that line reminded her of the horrendously long book her tutor made her read from start to finish, she tilts his head up again. 

  
  
        "Listen. to. me." Carefully scrutinizing she searches for appropriate words. For at this moment she understands that he stands so far away from her, that perhaps she'll loose him completely. "...don't leave me. Come back to me." She pleads, and at last he takes in a deep breath closing his eyes. 

  
  
        "Yes, that's right. I do have a place to return to with you don't I?" He looks ever so hopeful that she finds herself eagerly nodding. "Alright, I'll do my best to make amends for my crimes. But rest assured I'll never leave you." Taking her hands in his he presses a kiss to each of them. "Are you quite sure (F/n)? I've fallen from grace, you'll most likely be often talked of and not in a pleasant manner."   
    Once again she nods eagerly. 

  
  
        "Oh Edgar, to lose you would be my greatest punishment also!" Seconds after speaking her expression falls into a frown alerting him to something as well. "Not to mention, if you'd like to make amends then begin by correcting that atrocious love making just now." His eyebrows rise on his face, cheeks coloring crimson, as he holds a breath before laughing. "That's no laughing matter mister, I am sore in all the wrong places and quite hurt as well. Surely you must know a way to give a woman pleasure in return for all of the same she gives to you." 

  
  
        "Yes, of course. I'll make amends starting with you. How's that?" 

  
  
    Sighing, she caresses Edgar again. Something stole his happiness at Weston, his innocence. That much she knew, and it irked her at times. Knowing something was deeply wrong with her beloved yet not being to do a thing about it. She could organize teas, balls, parties, trips to town, all vain silly distractions that did Edgar very little good. 

  
  
    Maybe  _this_  was something she could do to help him heal then. Maybe this was all he'd needed. Though that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy it as well did it? 


End file.
